


A Servant's Loyalty

by In_Much_Stress



Series: Just A Random Playlist [42]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Antis do not interact, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it's a great way to stay warm, I'm sorry Wil but this is a sacrifice I'm willing to make, Implied Sexual Content, King Philza, Loyalty, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Endermen, OwO what's this???, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Prince Technoblade, Prince Wilbur Soot, Servant Dream, Song: Aku no Meshitsukai | The Servant of Evil, and I'll do it absolutely for free, anyways actual tags, because Phil is a king I'm just giving him the crown he deserves, hell ye boiiiiiiiiii, or do if you wanna get roasted, screeching our lungs out, wandom angst??, your distaste is enough payment for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress
Summary: “Everyone needs something to be loyal to, Technoblade, or life loses its meaning. Father has painted his hands red for the Kingdom, and so will we; Dream did it for his sister, and if he truly wishes to find her, then so be it.”KEEP IN MIND that this was made for us, shippers, and us only and you should not show this to either CC unless given clear and enthusiastic consent. Also, if you're gonna waste your time telling me to stop, I want you to think for a second and go find something to do with your life, because you ain't righteous and you sure ain't protecting anyone, Anti.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Series: Just A Random Playlist [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639864
Comments: 20
Kudos: 554





	A Servant's Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Servant of Evil by mothy

Prince Technoblade learns about hate at the young age of fourteen.

It comes with the news of the terrors done by the neighboring Kingdom, and the haunted look in the eyes of his older brother, Prince Wilbur, who had been held prisoner there for only six months, but looked like he had been there for all his eighteen years of life.

Wilbur now flinches away from any touch, always looks frantically around every room he enters, almost enters a state of pure panic if someone stands too closely behind him, and he just… doesn't trust anyone. Not one person is safe from his hesitant mistrust, not even his ever so kind father, not even his once adored little brother, as if their shared blood means nothing but maybe a more painful betrayal waiting to happen.

And so, Prince Technoblade has his first taste of hate at the age of fourteen.

It's a bitter feeling that stings deep in his stomach, and he feels a mix of anger and disgust so strong he wants to cry, scream and break something, but also he feels like coldly punishing someone by destroying everything they hold dear.

Clearly his father, King Phil, shares the same feelings, for it takes not even a month before he's declaring war at the people who dared hurt his son. His viciousness takes some people by surprise, as the King is known for his gentle nature, but the people close to him know that there is a fire burning eternally inside him, a fire that is as warming as it is searing.

The war is gruesome, proving both Kingdoms are equally as powerful. Techno is, of course, not allowed to fight thanks to his young age, but he is allowed to participate in other ways. His unparalleled planning skills and excellent knowledge are to be marvelled as he applies them to the cause. The enemy is foolish, but not stupid, whoever is in charge of strategizing clearly knows what they’re doing, almost as well as the youngest Prince does.

Ten months of war, and the ruler of the enemy Kingdom finally shows their face. Everyone expected the arrogance and the condescending words, no one expected it all to come from a blonde girl that can’t be older than the youngest Prince himself. Queen Drista’s eyes are of poisonous green, and her blonde hair reflects the red of the hungry flames as she burns a treaty that could have saved her now falling Kingdom. Behind her, a servant stands rigidly, hiding behind a ceramic mask with a crass smile.

Wilbur refuses to stay in the same castle as her during her “visit”.

Techno’s rage burns as much as the papers do.

Two months later, Queen Drista is captured, and her Kingdom is integrated with theirs. What’s left of it, anyways.

The fallen queen is brought to King Philza without much fight. In fact, she answers to nothing, not even the harshest kick or the most hurtful words. She keeps her head low, a curtain of blonde hair hiding her face. The creme dress is big and full of frills and bows, like an extravagant wedding cake. Her hands are shackled in front of her, covered in the dirty fabric of what once were white gloves. Her compliance is such that the King is able to dismiss all the guards, trusting the girl will keep sitting on the cold floor of the Throne Room.

Prince Technoblade attends the “meeting” with his heart ablaze, sitting by his father, the only other person there besides the prisoner.

King Phil lets clear that while it may weigh in his heart to bring such a young life to an end, it is a necessary evil, for the Kingdom needs to know that it is truly free from the tyrant. The girl’s shoulders shake, and Techno takes immense pleasure with the prospect of seeing her cry her little pathetic eyes out.

She tilts her head, allowing her hair to move from her face, and Technoblade is met with a face that definitely does not belong to Queen Drista. Maybe it can appear so to the untrained eye, but he had run his wrathful red eyes over her picture many times this last year. His observation skills are very sharp. The one sitting in front of him and his father is not the dreadful queen. The eyes are much less poisonous, the lips are much fuller, and the wheezing laughter that leaves their lips instead of wailing is deeper than that of the young Queen.

“Dream!”

“Wilbur?!”

Prince Technoblade doesn’t know what to do as he watches his big brother run to the shackled person and hug them tightly.

Sure, Prince Wilbur has been doing much better now, after a whole year away from the terrors of the fallen Kingdom and the cruel hands of Queen Drista, but he still can’t look directly at a guard without flinching, or sleep without checking his doors and windows a few times, or take in any physical contact that hasn’t been initiated by the Prince himself.

But to see him hug a person who shares such resemblance with his worst nightmare?

To hear him plead to their father to spare that person’s life?

To witness the flame the older prince has been missing for a year be lit again because of _that thing?_

Prince Technoblade has his second taste of hate at age fifteen.

* * *

Prince Technoblade is no stranger to disgust.

He can feel it wriggle inside his stomach like a worm, sliding its repulsive flesh against his own, every time he reads through the atrocities caused by Queen Drista and her lapdog, the ever so elusive servant who followed her everywhere, hidden behind a mask.

His name is Dream.

He is the bastard son of the King, two years older than his sister and Technoblade himself. Trained for combat and survival, way too overskilled for the simple job of servant.

A “shadow” would be more fitting of a description.

Or perhaps a “sacrifice”.

Dream acts like nothing bothers him, no matter how dim his cell is, no matter how many rats run around nipping at his clothing, no matter how little he is fed, no matter how much the shackles burn his wrists or how much his arms hurt being held above his head all day and night, every day and night. His eyes, green like Drista’s yet quite different, are always filled with baffling contentment, his lips curl into a soft smile every now and then and his voice is still cheerful despite the roughness.

He shines brightly and Prince Techno wants nothing more but to grind his disgusting face against the hard rocks of the dungeon, until there is no freckled skin to hide his terrible sins.

The Prince’s disgust only grows when he sees his brother treat the man with tenderness.

Prince Wilbur goes down the dungeons as much as he possibly can, and nothing their father has thrown at him in hopes of stopping him have worked. The only option would be locking him up, but no one wants to bring back memories of his time under _her,_ so they all eventually just let the Prince do as he wishes, as long as he takes someone with him.

That someone tends to be his younger brother.

“You shouldn’t be here, Wil. It’s a waste of your time.”

Wilbur only shushes him softly, running his hand over the fading scars on the other’s face. He had cleaned the make up earlier in the month, leaving the freckles even more visible and bringing Dream’s lips back to their natural color. Wilbur can’t free Dream, so he pampers him as much as he can considering the situation, cleaning him with a towel and a bowl of water to the best of his abilities, dressing his wounds, feeding him food made by their best chef, brushing his wavy hair almost as lovingly as he sometimes does to Techno.

Dream accepts his actions with curiosity, having admitted once to not being used to being taken care of as far as he can remember.

That monster he calls sister had allowed him to stay that way, and yet he smiles brightly every time he learns she has yet to be found.

Prince Technoblade, at the age of fifteen, is no stranger to disgust… but he might be a stranger to this intensity of it.

* * *

Prince Technoblade doesn’t understand gratitude.

“Dream is the reason I survived, Technoblade. He’d treat my injuries, feed me, give me ways to keep the cold of the night away, talk to me when the silence was too much, listen to me when everything was too much… he kept the guards away from me when their eyes would get that horrible glint… he went as far as disposing of the ballsier ones… and he helped me escape, even if that would mean losing his head.”

“That does not make him a good man, brother. His hands are painted in crimson, and his loyalty lies with the very person who put you through that Hell.”

“No, that does not make him a good man, but he still has my gratitude, and I will return his kindness by giving him the chance to have the life he was denied at birth.”

“His sister lives, what if he returns to her?”

“Everyone needs something to be loyal to, Technoblade, or life loses its meaning. Father has painted his hands red for the Kingdom, and so will we; Dream did it for his sister, and if he truly wishes to find her, then so be it. Besides, with her dethroned and a fugitive, what could two people do?”

“You seem to forget that your disloyal pet has been trained to do serious damage.”

“If that is the path he chooses, then so be it. I’ll see it myself that he and his sister die, but for now, he is but a friend I cherish quite a bit.”

Prince Technoblade doesn’t understand gratitude, and wonders if it’s because of his young age or if he just truly can’t fathom the concept.

* * *

Jealousy is not a luxury Prince Technoblade can say he often indulges.

He can’t help it, though, when he watches Dream talk animatedly with his older brother, hands gesturing madly as he tries to force his words through a symphony of laughter. Tears run down freckled cheeks, and it’s a wonder his lungs were able to carry him through seventeen years of life. A tea kettle wouldn’t be as loud.

Prince Wilbur looks so relaxed near the man who carries the same damned blood as the runaway Queen it makes Technoblade grit his teeth until it hurts. Those soft brotherly smiles are his, the kind stares are his, the tender touches are his, Wilbur is _his brother._ Yet there the older Prince is, sharing their special spot in the garden with this scoundrel.

King Philza had offered Dream a deal, way too good for someone like him: stay in the castle as Prince Wilbur’s servant, give his loyalty to their Kingdom, and keep away from the public eye as much as he possibly can.

All because Wilbur had gone to extremes very few would dare go to assure the blonde would live to see another day.

And now Technoblade has to share his brother with this degenerate with too bright of a smile and too soft of a voice, who thinks he can win the younger Prince over with a pretty face and nice gestures.

Jealousy, Prince Technoblade hopes, is not going to burn forever, since he knows the blonde will inevitably go after his sister, as the loyal dog he was trained to be.

* * *

Begrudging respect is not really new to Prince Technoblade.

He’s come to begrudgingly respect some people in his sixteen summers of life.

What he didn’t expect was to respect the lapdog of a maniacal teenager.

But here he is, watching in apprehension as the Kingdom’s best doctors do their best to save Dream’s life after the crazy blonde just saved the Kingdom from another war while his brother almost sinks his nails in his arm.

Assassination attempts are not incommon in the lives of royality, but for someone to be ballsy enough to try to kill an entire royal family and blame it on another so two Kingdom’s would go to war sure is.

Emperor Jschlatt is yelling at his men in the hallway, immediately on the case, and if there is one thing Prince Technoblade knows is that if that man gets determined, there is not a mountain that won’t move out of his way. Whoever gave the now dead assassin their orders is going to be found out in a matter of days, and feel the rage of the Emperor for eons to come.

Something tells Technoblade that Dream knows that.

In fact, he will not be surprised when the blond reveals he had planned it all ever since he found out about the conspiracy, bright smile too large and cheerful green eyes too intense.

Prince Technoblade can respect a man that smart and that willing. Begrudgingly.

* * *

It takes him completing seventeen years for Prince Technoblade to fully grasp friendship.

“I’m younger than you, but I’m still way better.”

“And more humble."

“Shut up, I’ve been training to kill since birth, I’m allowed to be prideful every now and then.”

“So have I, just differently.”

“... One day, I’ll get you to fight me for real. Not a duel, since it’s obvious who’s the best one, but a battle of wits… I’ve been craving for it for some time now.”

“Really?”

“You gave me headaches with your battle strategies back then.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you were up after your bedtime?”

“Oh, fuck off. You’re lucky Wilbur likes you, you old fart, or you’d be dead by now.”

“Only Wilbur?”

“Yes, Dream, only Wilbur… stop staring at me like that.”

He’s not sure if they’re doing it right, but Prince Technoblade thinks they’re doing ok.

* * *

Prince Technoblade is introduced to lust at age eighteen, and it’s absolutely Prince Wilbur’s fault.

The teasing starts as soon as the clock hits twelve, when his family pretends they haven't been awake for the last hour and a very animated Wilbur comes to wake the younger Prince with a way too big smile for someone who supposedly has been sleeping for hours now. His method consists in waking up his younger brother with a wet kiss to the cheek, a rough shove on the shoulder and, finally, throwing Dream on Technoblade’s bed with enough force to make both men grunt and bounce.

Dream is laughing, pure joy shining in his green eyes, and maybe Technoblade can find it in himself to forgive his brother.

Nah. He gives the older Prince a good whack on the head with the closest thing he gets his hands on, which is, ironically, Wilbur's gift.

Which has a very suspicious, cephalic shape, rubbery consistency and wiggles when shaken. He's definitely not taking off the paper covering it here, in front of his father and Dream. Or ever, for that matter. The gift is going to the furnace as soon as possible.

Phil's gift is way better, an encyclopedia of plants, a subject that has caught Technoblade's interest in the last week's, interest prompted by the stories Dream shares with him during sleepless nights.

Dream's gift is his favourite, though. A pendant forged by the man himself, with a green jewel in the middle. Not big enough to get in the way of his routine as it dangles from his neck, but big enough to get the attention it certainly deserves. And, if Techno remembers correctly, in Dream's Kingdom, giving someone an accessory or weapon that you crafted yourself is considered a gesture of love and loyalty. Only people who felt strongly about each other would do that.

Prince Technoblade carries now a promise.

The party is not a party, only four people in a barely lit room, warm food on the table together with a few bottles of the “liquid courage” bards enjoy singing about. But it's just enough for Techno, who enjoys every minute he has with his father, his brother and his…

“Dream looks good, doesn’t he?” Technoblade hears his brother whisper in his ear, voice dripping with mischief and smelling of alcohol.

The birthday man can see Wilbur’s eyes caress Dream’s form appreciatively, drinking in the image of the blond servant. Dream _does_ look really good, with the loose green shirt leaving a patch of his tanned chest exposed, the see-through fabric allowing his golden tattoos—yet another part of his Kingdom he carries proudly, the golden swirls and waves of a young warrior—to shine slightly when caressed by the candlelight, long legs covered by the tight pants thrown over the couch, long blonde hair out of its ponytail and circling his head like a halo, soft looking lips curled in a joyful smile.

Dream looks like a dream, with the lack of a better word.

Techno hits Wilbur with his indecent gift once again.

“Ow, ow, you jealous brat!” There is only delight in his voice, however.

The party ends with Wilbur drunk out of his mind, being carried to bed by a slightly tipsy and wholly amused Phil, who gives both young men pats on the head and a knowing smirk before leaving.

With both of them alone, Dream gives Technoblade a second gift in between pleasurably painful bites, addictive warm touches and mind blowing kisses.

Technoblade is introduced to lust at age eighteen, the same day he is given the first taste of requited love.

* * *

Prince Technoblade has felt fear many times in his life, but to think it would come from Queen Drista, or what’s left of her, at his twentieth birthday…

His hands tremble as he watches Dream hug his sister, fear grabbing his heart and squeezing painfully.

Today was supposed to be a day only for the lovers, a day in the town far, far away from the castle, where land meets sea and dreams are given form. They had been so happy, exploring the place, eating at random stops, wasting money they had no use for in stuff they also had no use for. It all went down the drain when they visited the church. At first, everything seemed fine. They were two lovers looking at the colorful glass panes, hands linked and hearts connected, eyes lost in the daydream of one day getting married and weaving their fates together for the rest of eternity.

Then a young nun called out Dream’s name.

And Prince Technoblade’s blood ran cold as she took out of her robes an unmistakable white mask, a mask that has been away from a freckled face for six years now.

It’s pathetic, really, how the Prince known for his combat skills and ruthlessness can’t move. And, Lord, does he want to. Because hugging his beloved, his most cherished, is the monster that traumatized his brother, who took away many men from their families, who left behind destruction and suffering in her wake.

She cries like a little girl seeking refuge from the darkness in the arms of her trustworthy big brother, much like the youngest Prince used to do when he was younger.

What makes him move is when the poisonous green eyes finally leave the freckled face he loves so much and star at him with fear.

Good.

She should fear his rage.

The blade of his sword shines menacingly under the colorful light of the church.

Dream promptly shoves his sister behind his body, green eyes filled with sorrow as pleads leave his lips. He begs and implores for Prince Technoblade to not be hasty, to allow the deranged Queen keep her tainted soul. He points out how harmless she has become, and how much she regrets her past.

“Please, Techno, she’s important to me.”

“So was I.”

Tears gather at the corner of the green eyes his heart sings for, and if seeing Dream smiling so happily to that monster felt like a stab on the back, seeing tears run down his cheeks feels like burning alive. Every single part of his body is burning with the need to hug the blonde close and wipe away the tears, give him a loving kiss and walk away to the happy ending he has dreamt of during the earlier hours of the morning, when he could let himself be sappy and ridiculously infatuated.

But he knows it won’t happen like that, because he knows Dream.

He knows Dream’s loyalty.

He knows there is a chance he won’t be chosen.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when the younger blond opens her mouth to address her brother. She gently pushes him out of the way of the sword. Her poisonous green eyes now hold no sting, and her stance carries no arrogance. Her voice is shaky as she explains that fair is fair, and that if she has to die to pay for her sins, then it might as well be by the hands of those who she have deeply wounded. There is resignation and tenderness in her goodbyes to her increasingly frantic big brother.

In front of him is not Queen Drista, but  Dream’s sister.

Prince Technoblade feels fear one more time in his life as he tells her that she is not allowed nowhere near the castle, but he will not forbid Dream from the joys of family, before leaving the pair alone in the church. Thankfully, it goes away as soon as Dream returns to his side, grabbing his hand and kissing him in gratitude.

* * *

Prince Technoblade knows of loyalty.

“I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“Really, now?”

“She’s your sister, and you’ve already proved you will do anything for her.”

“Yes, I was raised to give everything I am to my sister… but now I’m free, and as much as I love Drista, you’re still the one I chose to be with. Nothing will change that.”

“Ever?”

“Ever, my Prince. This servant will love you even if the world turns on you, or even if the world meets its end.”

As he watches Dream gently play the piano, the pendant the Prince himself had made for him as they complete today another year being together, Prince Technoblade is certain of only one thing. Prince Technoblade knows of love.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Brother's Regret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448265) by [In_Much_Stress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress)




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